


not my type

by Hannaadi88



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, M/M, Vampire Lance, Werewolf Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannaadi88/pseuds/Hannaadi88
Summary: A vampire feeding on a werewolf? Impossible. Absurd.…but perhaps not as crazy as a vampire and a werewolf in space.





	not my type

"Lance, this is getting ridiculous."

"You're ridiculous," Lance muttered darkly as he hugged his knees to his chest. He wasn't cold (shucks, he couldn't even remember what that felt like), but he found comfort in the semblance of control over his body. That, and the way it put even more of a distance between him and the campfire.

Though at the rate things were going, maybe incineration wasn't the worst way to go. It'd hurt for sure, but from what Lance had heard, it would be quick. Starving, on the other hand? Now that was plain torture.

In fact, the thirst felt a bit like a fire. It burned Lance's throat and made it painful to swallow. His head felt light, on the verge of dizziness, and Lance doubted that he could stand up straight. If he didn't feed soon his body would probably shut down. He wouldn't die, but he'd need a complicated transfusion that Lance doubted Coran knew how to do. The technicalities didn't really matter- for all intents and purposes, Lance wouldn't be able to pilot Blue. He might as well be dead for the all the use he'd be to the team.

Keith sighed from his spot next to the fire and Lance tightened his grip on his knees. Of course Keith, who almost never used his words, would choose the only time Lance wanted to be alone to be chatty. Couldn't he let Lance shut down in peace?

"It's been five days, Lance," Keith stated. "You need to feed."

"Tell me something I don't know," Lance snapped. He turned his head and shot Keith as scathing a look as he could manage. Keith didn't even blink.

"Then why won't you?" Keith huffed. His brows were furrowed and his lips were turned in his usual frown. He was acting as if Lance's eating habits (or lack thereof) were a personal affront, which made no sense whatsoever. Why did he care if Lance deteriorated into nothingness? They were enemies, after all. This whole working as a team stint was only temporary. If the universe didn't need them so badly, Lance and Keith would've battled it out ages ago.

They were just barely tolerating each other at this point. And being marooned on an uninhabited planet with broken down lion robots, with only a werewolf to keep him company?

Lance wished he'd just pass out already.

"I don't know if you've noticed, genius, but there's nothing for me to eat," Lance dug his nails into the fabric of his uniform. "The rations weren't exactly meant for me."

Keith rolled his eyes and stood up. Lance watched him warily, stiffening as Keith took a step closer.

"I'm here," Keith said slowly. The crease of his brow deepened, as if each word was physically painful for him to say. "You can feed on me."

Lance blinked. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or not. He settled on wrinkling his nose instead. Keith's eyes widened and his face reddened with what Lance could only assume was indignation.

"What? I'm not good enough?"

"No," Lance didn't hesitate. "Absolutely not. Do you think that if your blood appealed to me in any way you'd still be alive by now?"

Keith crossed his arms. "Um, yeah? We both know you couldn't take me down even if you wanted to."

"Wrong. Have you ever met a starved vampire, Keith? Believe me, you wouldn't stand a chance."

"…aren't you starved?"

Lance grimaced. "I am. But there's no blood here to trigger me into rabid vampire mode. Lucky you."

Keith shook his head. "I don't get it! I'm here, I've got blood! Why don't you want it?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Lance spat. "Dog blood is disgusting, Keith. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Really?" Keith pursed his lips. "Dog blood?"

Lance shrugged. He was getting tired. "I didn't come up with it."

The conversation petered off after that. Keith crouched back down next to the fire and seemed to be poking it for whatever reason. Lance rolled his eyes and then closed them, trying not to drift off. Oblivion was tempting, but he wasn't sure if he'd wake up.

Something was suddenly very close. Too close. Lance's eyes popped open and he recoiled as they met Keith's gaze. He was balancing on his knees in front of him with a complicated expression that didn't bode well.

"What the fuck, Keith?" Lance tried to summon the strength to be angry, but his emotions were growing distant. His voice wasn't much more than a sharp rasp. "If you think sneaking up on me and giving me a heart attack is a good way to kill me, I've got bad news for you."

Keith narrowed his eyes. "You can't even shut up when you're dying."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Ugh, you're impossible," Keith griped as he reached back and pulled out his knife from his belt. Lance froze. Despite everything, he hadn't really thought that Keith was interested in offing him. At the very least, Voltron always seemed more important to the werewolf than any personal bias. Was this how it was going to end? The blade wouldn't kill him, but it would certainly hurt. Lance wouldn't even have the energy to resist being thrown into the fire.

Lance shut his eyes tightly and held his breath, waiting for the sharp pain. It never came. Instead, Lance caught the scent of something warm and spicy. His nostrils flared and before he knew what he was doing he'd opened his eyes and reached out, grabbing Keith's wrist with a strength and speed that shocked them both.

There was blood trickling down Keith's arm from where he'd cut himself. Lance's eyes widened and he raised his gaze, looking at Keith questioningly.

"Drink," Keith said gruffly. His body was stiff as he looked away. "I don't care if you hate the taste."

Lance licked his lips and looked down. Keith's blood didn't draw him in like a regular human's would. He didn't feel that irresistible pull.

But…

It didn't repulse him, either.

"Why…why are you doing this?"

Keith's eyes flickered back to him. There was uncertainty in them, as if he wasn't completely sure himself why he was offering a vampire his blood. But then something hardened in his gaze. Conviction.

"You're part of Voltron, Lance. We need you. I can't just let you die."

If Lance's body had any blood left to spare, he probably would've blushed. Keith's reasoning was hardly a declaration of friendship, but it was the nicest thing he'd ever said to him. He wondered if he should point out that he wouldn't technically die, but Lance decided against it.

Now that there was actual blood in front of him for the taking, he didn't want to risk losing it.

"…thank you," Lance said grudgingly. He tightened his grip on Keith's wrist and pulled his arm closer, leaning down just a bit to meet it halfway. As his lips brushed skin he felt Keith shiver.

Lance couldn't help but moan as he licked the trail of Keith's blood up to the wound. It didn't have the heady taste blood usually did, but fuck. Lance was starving and Keith's blood was  _warm_. After only feeding on refrigerated blood packs for months and months in space, warm blood was a special treat regardless of who it came from.

Their eyes met as Lance sank his fangs into the cut. Keith gasped and jerked his arm back, but Lance wasn't ready to let him go. They struggled for a moment before Keith bit his lip and sank back down to his knees, taking a shuddering breath. Lance could feel Keith's eyes staring a hole into his head as he fed, but he didn't mind. Not when he could feel Keith's warmth pumping through his veins. Revitalizing him.

A vampire feeding on a werewolf? Impossible. Absurd.

…but perhaps not as crazy as a vampire and a werewolf in space.

Lance looked up and met Keith's eyes. He'd never had the chance to observe them up close before. Were they purple? Grey? Whatever the color, they were kinda…pretty.

Maybe the same rules that applied to them and their kind on Earth didn't matter here, on a deserted planet.

Maybe Lance didn't want them to matter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little something I wrote in response to an anon on tumblr. Come talk to me! Unlike Lance, I don't bite ;)
> 
> http://hannaadi88.tumblr.com/
> 
> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
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